Faraday 01 The Gigabyte Detective (10 page)

“You see, Cynthia Adams was suffocated by a pillow at the end of an apparently satisfactory love-making session. Nobody knows the motive. It may have been as a result of blackmail or it may just have been a sexual experiment that went wrong. Personally I don’t buy the latter suggestion.”

“I agree with that,” said Paulson.

“In the case of Stella Parsons, I suppose your killer could have taken a boat out and banged her on the head, but that seems rather a chancy way of disposing of someone, particularly when a storm was brewing. It’s certainly different to the way Mrs Adams was killed.”

“I suppose you’re right,” agreed Brace.

“Mariella Prince could have slipped while she was being chased by the murderer. But was there any record of a single man being seen in the area?”

“And she certainly had no other injuries than the one that knocked her unconscious,” said Paulson.

“Also, what was the motive?” asked Charlotte. “I don’t think it was sexual. Mariella didn’t appear to have been attractive to men.”

“
And no individual gained financially.”

“What about Julia Hillman? Had she enjoyed sex before she hung herself?”

Paulson shook his head. “The autopsy doesn’t mention it. I guess the pathologist only checked the cause of death - which was obvious.”

“Cynthia Adams killer,” said Charlotte, “seems to have befriended her before he killed her. I guess it’s possible that he could have done the same to Joanne de Billiere and persuaded her to take him for a trip on her boat. What do you think, Stafford.”

He scratched his head and looked at the ceiling. “It’s possible, I suppose, but I’m not sure how we can check it.” He shrugged. “I suppose we can go back to the marina and see if we can get any leads there.”

“Maybe,” she said. “However the question of motive remains. Why should a serial killer select these women? Is there some sort of connection between them? Have you unearthed anything, Mr Brace?”

“No,” he admitted.

Charlotte turned back to Paulson. “I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to look for any connection between them?”

He shook his head. “In any case it all sounds pretty far-fetched to me.”

“And then there’s the added complication of all the murders occurring at about the same time of year,” she pointed out, determined not to give the journalist the luxury of believing he was starting a new line of enquiry. “That was your original clue, Mr Brace. Although that might appear to be a link between them, in fact it actually makes it less likely that they are a series because it means that not only are the victims linked but that link has to have some relevance to the murders. Do you see the problem?”

He nodded, disappointment showing on his face.

“It is all such a complicated and tenuous set of coincidences,” said Charlotte, “that I’m afraid I’m inclined to agree with Inspector Paulson that the whole theory is quite incredible.” She smiled at his discomfiture. “Of course we’ll keep an open mind while we’re looking at other things. However, I’m sorry. I think it’s an interesting bit of imaginative journalism, but hardly the sort of thing that we can base a serious investigation on.”

“I see what you mean.” Brace regarded her sadly. He now seemed completely deflated. “Well, I’m sorry if I’ve involved you in a wild goose chase.”

“Don’t worry about us,” said Charlotte. “The thing that bothers me is that your article has unintentionally caused a lot of anxiety to a certain section of the local community. I suggest you consider writing a follow-up to the previous one. You can carry through the arguments we’ve looked at here and finish up with the clear message that the idea of a serial killer being on the loose is quite untenable. Would you be willing to do that to put people’s minds at rest?”

Brace was watching her with steady eyes. At last he said, “OK, I think I can write something like that.”

“That would be responsible journalism at its best. By the way I don’t think you should mention that you have discussed it with us. That might give confusing signals to your readers.” She smiled. “It will be better if you write it as though you want to correct any misunderstanding that arose from your first article.”

“Message understood.” He nodded. “Again, my apologies.”

Charlotte got to her feet. “Right then. I hope my desk is ready for me to start my investigation. Goodbye, Mr Brace. Please don’t let this prevent you from contacting us if you think you have something else which we might be interested in.”

She didn’t tell either of the men that she was going to take a serious look at the particular can of worms which Julian Brace had opened.

* * * * * * * *

Richard and Susannah found they were the only visitors when they arrived at Berry Pomeroy. They had parked the car in a hollow beyond the grass sward in front of the castle.

“This was probably the quarry where they had dug out the walling stone,” he said. “The dressed masonry for the quoins and windows was probably brought from some distance away but they would have used local stone for the infill.”

As they walked back to the castle entrance a man suddenly appeared from the little building near the gatehouse which they discovered acted as both the cafe and shop for memorabilia. He was wearing a lapel badge.

“I’m the local guardian,” he informed them. “I have a concession on the site from English Heritage.”

He charged them two pounds fifty each and apologised for the fact that he was still waiting for the reprinted edition of the guide book. “However, since it’s quiet today, I’ll give you the guided tour myself - that is until someone else turns up.”

“That’s all right,” said Richard. “I’ve been to the place before so I know quite a bit about it.”

Susannah took his arm. “I know nothing about the place, Richard. I’d like a guided tour.”

He gave way with slightly bad grace and was rather quiet as the man took them round, explaining each part of the building to them and giving a good picture of what life was like at the time when the castle was the centre of life in South Devon. She found it all very interesting.

When they got back to the cafe they discovered that the man’s wife had started to prepare for lunch. Another couple of cars turned up and the guardian found himself becoming busy.

Susannah and Richard sat down to enjoy a snack lunch on the veranda, looking at the golden castle drowsing in the midday sun.

“Do you like the place?” he asked.

“Yes I do. I can’t understand why I’ve been so stupid and never driven the few miles to come here. I must drag some of my friends out here for a visit. After our guided tour I’ll be able to tell them all about it.”

He looked at her. “Did you like listening to the bloke?”

“Didn’t you?” she asked. “I thought all that information about life here in the past was very interesting.”

“The bloke certainly had a good imagination. Personally, I’d have preferred us to be on our own to absorb the atmosphere of the place.”

She looked at him. He almost sounded grumpy. And up to now he’d been such a charming companion. She decided that perhaps she had better make him feel that he was the centre of things.

“Thank you so much for bringing me.” She reached out and touched his hand briefly. “Where are we going to go next?”

He brightened. “I was thinking of driving on down the coast beyond Dartmouth. The views are very special. Are you game for that?”

“That sounds lovely.”

She thought his enthusiasm made him seem so young. It was a long time since she had been in the company of someone who was so full of life. Just being with him made her feel as though she’d recovered some of her lost youth.

They walked back to the car in the shady quarry. Another car turned up as they reached the secret hollow.

“The place will soon be as busy as Piccadilly Circus,” he joked. But his voice had very little humour in it.

* * * * * * * *

It was late morning when the police officers returned to the station. Charlotte’s desk was ready for her with a couple of comfortable chairs waiting. She took the trouble to go into the general office to thank Constable Prendergast.

She asked Paulson, “Can I have Constable Howell for half an hour to help me with putting information on to the hard drive?”

He raised no objection. It took them ten minutes to set up the computer and Charlotte explained to the DC what the purpose was of each item of peripheral equipment. She was anxious to get the girl interested in what she was doing. Then Howell spent the next quarter hour scanning the photocopies provided by Mr Brace on to the computer while she checked the transmission of her meeting with the journalist.

After twenty-five minutes she released Constable Howell to her other duties and settled down to transfer the main data from the department’s computers onto her stack of hard drives. She had several hours intense work ahead of her.

* * * * * * * *

Susannah wound down her windows again as they set off through the cool woods on their trip down the coast. Richard had recovered his good humour and the trip was very enjoyable. Their route skirted Totnes and followed back roads to Dartmouth. From there they took the coast road. It was a long time since Susannah had come this way and she had forgotten what a lovely road it was, twisting and turning round headlands with wide views across the channel, dropping down into shady coves with sandy beaches and climbing to pass through cliff-top villages where the houses seemed to have turned their backs on the road to gaze at the panorama to the south-east. They drove along the top of Slapton beach between the sea and reed-fringed lake. Then, when the main road turned inland, they dived into the web of narrow lanes leading to the end of the land. They finished up parking behind a small cliff-top hotel which looked across the bay to Start Point.

Richard helped her out of the car. “Now we’re going to visit a deserted, half-ruined village at the foot of the cliffs which was largely washed away in a dreadful storm about eighty years ago.”

“I know nothing about this place.” In fact Susannah had been surprised several times today by how little she knew about the area she lived in.

Richard grinned. “To be fair, not very many people know about this disaster and a lot of those who do know about it have never visited what’s left of the village.”

They had reached a gateway where a sign warned them that the place was hazardous and that nobody should go near the cliff edge. Richard held her hand as they descended a flight of steps which led them on to the remains of the old village main street.

Susannah peered into one of the roofless cottages. “I’m not sure I like this place,” she said. “I think it’s rather creepy.”

“Hang on to me,” said Richard. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She took his hand gratefully.

“Come over here,” he said and led her to where the roadway had collapsed and what seemed to her to be a totally inadequate fence had been erected along the edge. “Look down there.”

She looked down and suddenly clung to Richard. “Don’t let me go,” she cried.

“What’s the matter?”

“I hate looking down there.”

Although it was a calm day there were still waves breaking against the foot of the gravelly cliff twenty feet below. The road seemed to overhang a vertical drop. She couldn’t help imagining what it would have been like to be living in one of the cottages when the sea had undermined them and sucked them down beneath the waves.

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Richard leaned over the edge and looked down. Susannah suddenly had a horrible feeling that he was about to jump off and drag her with him.

“Don’t do that!”

He grinned wickedly. “Now you’re completely in my power. I can do whatever I want with you. So watch out.”

Susannah’s blood ran cold. Did he mean it? What should she say?

“Are you two all right?”

She swung round. A young couple had emerged from a cottage further down the street. It was the man who had called to them. “I say. You shouldn’t go too close to the edge. It can suddenly break away.”

“Yes. Please come away, Richard.” She dragged him back from the edge.

“Isn’t this a strange place?” said the young man.

“I think it’s scary,” his girl-friend agreed. “I’m not going to stay here any longer, Daniel. I feel as though the whole place could collapse into the sea any minute.”

“I agree with you,” said Susannah. She slipped her hand out of Richard’s grasp and accompanied the girl to the foot of the steps. Looking behind her, she saw the men were trailing after them. The young Daniel was talking volubly but Richard didn’t seem to be listening to him.

At the top of the steps they said goodbye to the young couple and returned to the car. Richard was quiet as he drove on through the lanes, Susannah sensed that he was somehow displeased with her, but she said nothing. She just sat back and waited to see where they were going.

After about half an hour she glimpsed water through the trees and the next minute they turned into a car park..

“This place is called East Portlemouth,” he said. “It’s just across the estuary from Salcombe. It’s one of my favourite beaches. I thought you might like to stretch out on the beach.”